


Welcome to the Dark Side~

by Elena_Parker



Series: Daemon Raises the Tenth Gen [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: (It's not cosplay Haru), All they do is coo over their chibi-descendents and cackle when they cause mayhem, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, And the First gen are not so help whatsoever, Angst, But he still loves his Papa anyways, Chrome thinks Daemon needs to review his fashion sense, Daemon -accidentally- kidnaps the tenth gen one by one and tries to instill the fear of god in them, Daemon Spade has a Heart, Daemon Spade travels back in time, Daemon trains the tenth gen to be badasses, Elena is a force to reckon with, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Gods Daemon wants to go back to the mass murdering business, Gokudera is convinced that Daemon is a UMA, Haru's role model is Daemon, Hibari kyoya does't like Pineapple Sr. or Pineapple Jr., Humor, It doesn't work out the same way, It doesn't work the way he want it to, It's just hidden deep inside, Just why?, Lambo is low key terrified of daemon, Or Elena will kick his ass, Papa!Daemon, Spirits, Spirits First Gen, Supernatural Elements, That shit is honestly pure Gold, The First gen loves the kids shenanigans, Time Travel Fix-It, Tragedy, Tsuna can't decide if he should be terrified of Daemon or Reborn, Why couldn't they be decent ghosts and haunt the Ninth gen and terrify them with their idiocies?!, Yamamoto thinks Daemon is funny, and also the world's most badass cinnamon roll, but sassy badasses, goddammit why weren't they terrified of him?, he prefers the previous time coz at least they were (rightfully) terrified of him then, he swears he won't let the tragic future be repeated, seriously, seriously long frilly skirts hats and corsets are so OLD fashion, seriously that guy's cosplay is awesome!, seriously these kids have no sense of self preservation, sure they become badasses, the kids were all little hellions, the youngest Pineapple girl is tolerable though, they haunt Daemon, they think he's funny, this child raising shit is SO DAMN HARD, to raise a few kids who look really similar to First Gen, very deep, why the heck did the First gen thought that procreating was a good idea?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22960204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elena_Parker/pseuds/Elena_Parker
Summary: Sometimes even Heroes need saving. And if their savior happens to be a (former) misguided megalomaniac Villain, well….. they’ll just have to deal with it. The chibi-Tenth generation better be ready, because if Primo’s brat is going to be a Mafia Boss (again), Daemon would make sure that this time he does itright.AU/Time-Travel:- In which Daemon Spade (armed with the knowledge of a disastrous future) does his best at damage control and starts collecting brats who have a terrifyingly similar resemblance with Vongola First Generation.Of course, by the time anyone notices it’s already too late.Semi-Drabble series
Relationships: Daemon Spade & Cozato Enma, Daemon Spade & Rokudo Mukuro & Chrome Dokuro, Daemon Spade & Vongola First Generation Guardians, Daemon Spade & Vongola Tenth Generation Guardians, Elena/Daemon Spade
Series: Daemon Raises the Tenth Gen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649983
Comments: 8
Kudos: 153





	Welcome to the Dark Side~

**Author's Note:**

> “It’s a Pineapple!” “It’s a Skylark!” 
> 
> “Nope, it’s just the melon-headed Daemon out to save the world. Lol.”

With his limbs strapped to the metal table, there wasn’t much room for movement. He tilted his head to the side to glance at the various machines surrounding him, only for his head to be forcibly turned upfront by a gloved hand. Whatever little freedom of movement he had before was soon snatched from him by the metal strap that over his forehead. He watched with disinterest as one of the men in white coat injected a syringe filled with suspicious yellow liquid in his body. They then stepped backwards and waited with bated breath for the drug to work.

It took a while before he noticed a burning sensation deep inside him. At first, the pain was bearable. But then within a few moments it spread throughout his body, making him break out into cold sweat. He opened his mouth to scream but a gag was pushed in it before he could let out any sound, it almost choked him.His limbs thrashed against the restraints, but to no avail. All he wanted to do was to curl up and _scream_ until the pain passed. But the restraints tying him made it impossible for him to do so. He wished they would inject the antidote already, but hoping them to have even the least bit of mercy on him - _or on any other test subject in this thrice damned facility_ \- was just wishful thinking. 

He had long since lost the hope to be saved -or even showed a bit of mercy by anyone. His Family had turned on him the moment they were shut out by the others, so there’s no way he would be foolish enough to hope these disgusting creatures to have any compassion for him. Neither could he expect any outsider to help him - _and the others_ \- out of this hellhole, for wasn’t it their fault he and the other kids were stuck in this mess? They were the ones who turned their backs to their suffering, the ones who had abandoned them first.

( _They will regret it…. One day, he’d make the world regret turning their backs to them_.)

While he suffered from the effects of whatever pain-inducing drug they injected him with, the men in white coats did nothing but watch him with cold, critical eyes and every once in a while one of them noted something down on their notepad. When they thought they had seen enough, a woman stepped forward and told him, “Do it.”

No sooner had she said those words that an indigo light flashed in his heterochromatic eyes. The indigo glow spread from his right (red) eye as he kept chanting deep inside with fervent whispers _‘It’s not real; the pain is not real’_ until he started believing it. Of course the pain was just his imagination. Why could a pain of _this_ level hurt him? This is obviously nothing. A fidgment of his imagination, nothing else. 

The glow spread over his body, washing away the pain, leaving behind only numbness and strange soreness in his limbs. He panted tiredly and his muddled mind distantly caught their conversation in rapid Italian about upping the dose the next time to push him to his limits. They wanted to make sure he was the perfect vessel before they tried their ultimate experiment procedure on him -the very experiment procedure that had killed the other six children in the Family that had been older than him, the one where the chances of survival was less than 5 percent. 

Of course he’d survive that too. He _had_ to. Because _no way_ would he take all this abuse any longer. The fire inside him twirled restlessly, it tightened itself into a little ball of ice-cold fury that was waiting to be unleashed.

_‘Not now…’_ He reminded himself once again, and locked away all the vindictiveness and fury deep inside him. After all, it wasn’t the time to show his true colors yet.

He’ll wait. He’ll wait, and plot and the moment he got a chance he’ll take it and slaughter them and die these disgusting white rooms _red_ -

“-is promising, isn’t it?” A distantly familiar voice spoke as the doors of the operating room opened, and he heard two pair of footsteps walk in.

He tilted his head to the side and watched with half-lidded, heterochromatic eyes as a familiar figure with dark blonde hair walked in, his eyes a similar shade of indigo. The pair of dark eyes glanced at him impassively, before it moved away and fell on the researchers who had been operating on him. Something inside him slightly bristled at the clear dismissal, which he soothed over with the thoughts of having his revenge by stabbing the man’s heart with something sharp and pointy - _a dagger maybe? Or a scalpel? A trident would do a cleaner job though_.

“Boss.” The researchers greeted their boss in low murmurs, but the man paid them no heed. Instead, he kept talking to his guest with a zeal of a salesman doing a sales pitch. 

“-Test Subject 12786 has shown remarkable progress, and would surely adapt to be the perfect vessel with the next few experiments. This experiment is guaranteed to succeed. It’s really a pity we do not have enough funds to make more than one set of prototypes.” the blonde man then shook his head in pity. “However, if you decide to invest in our business, we might be able to procure the materials we need. And of course, in return we'll provide you with as many sets of Possession Bullets as you want -but for a suitable price of course.” the sly man turned towards the other and asked, “It’s a good deal, isn’t it, Signore?”

“Hmm~” the other man hummed contemplatively, and it wasn’t until the blonde boss stepped back from his line of vision that his heterochromatic eyes fell on the dark haired man in a pristine suit that had walked in along with Boss. The man with dark hair, pale skin contrasted heavily with the whiteness of the operating room, and the way he tilted his head so gracefully reminded him of the stories his mother (before she gave up her son to the Family and ran away) used to tell him about the people of graceful bearing from the noble lineage of Giglio-Nero, De Luca and Vongola. 

To the others, the man looked like the very image of a cold, ruthless mafioso who had come here to find if the research of the Estraneo was worth investing in or not. None of them could see what lies beneath the mask of this cold, arrogant, ruthless mafioso.

(But he could.)

“This looks quite interesting.” Hearing his words, the Boss’s eyes lit up slightly in hope that finally they’ve got themselves an investor. Estraneo’s projects won’t die out now. It was so easy predicting his thoughts. For someone who had always treated him like a bug beneath his shoe; had always caught his tricks - _making his escapes impossible_ \- he was really easily to figure out. So unlike the other man who had obviously played the Boss and his subordinates with his tricks -he had always known the Boss’s confidence on his clever mind would be the death of him. It was sort of therapeutic to see it happening with his very own eyes. 

As he had predicted, the man’s next words soured Boss’s expressions. 

“However,” the man’s dark eyes met his heterochromatic ones, and his blank expression changed into a smug smirk as he declared, “I’m more interested in that child of yours.”

“What..?” the boss asked, unable to comprehend his words.

“In simple words,” The man’s dark eyes flashed indigo as he spoke, “I’ll be taking that child with me.”

“You-!” The blonde man hissed as he pulled out a gun and shot a bullet straight at the man’s head. He watched with morbid curiosity as the man didn’t dodge the shot and the bullet passed right through his skull.

The mysterious man tsked and spoke, “What a waste of bullets~” The wound on his forehead disappeared with a flash of indigo fire, making the other researchers panic and pull out their own weapons. The Boss’s eyes widened and he seemed to understand that he might not be able to win against this person whom even bullets couldn’t effect. So while his subordinates in white coats attacked the man, he escaped like the coward he was.

The man dodged their attacks with graceful ease and spoke tauntingly “You aren’t even worth to be cut by my scythe.” Saying this, he pulled out a deck of cards, and threw them towards the attacking men. His heterochromatic eyes were blinded by a flash of indigo, and by the time he adjusted his eyes to the room’s fluorescent lights, only corpses of those researchers lay on the floor. 

He watched as the man side-stepped the blood pooling around the corpses -staining the pristine white floor red- and walked towards him. 

“Come with me, child.” The man said as he freed him from his restraints with a snap of his fingers -the indigo fire somehow made the metallic restraints disappear. 

He sat and rubbed his sore wrists. “And if I don’t?” He asked with a small smirk on his face, not to be intimidated by this strange man. 

The man glanced at him in amusement, “You won’t get cookies then~” he spoke, making him stare at him in confusion.

“What cookies?”

The man chuckled and tapped the hospital gown hanging over his tiny, thin frame. The hospital gown transformed into beautiful aristocratic clothes -a pair of black boots, dark pants, a white undershirt over which he wore a dark blue vest and a black overcoat. With a wave of his hand, and a trident appeared in his grip. He then handed over the trident to him saying, “Here.”

He resisted the urge to scowl and declined his offer. “I don't need it.”

“Oh, you will.” The man assured him as he shoved the trident into his hands forcefully. For something that he had conjured, the trident seemed awfully real. It felt even colder in his hands, but somehow the coolness emitted by the trident was strangely comforting -and much, _much_ different from the biting coldness of the metallic straps that had been restraining him. 

“By the way, I’m sure you’ll like the present I’ve left for you~” The man left with those parting words, leaving him staring at his retreating back with a puzzled look. What present was he talking about?

(His question was answered a few minutes later when he had walked out of the room, gripping the trident in his hands to search for the mysterious man, only to pause because of the figure of Boss lying just before the doors of the operating room -bound and gagged. There was a bow with an indigo ribbon tied right on top of the man’s dark blonde hair, and a note was stuck on his forehead, saying-

_“Have Fun, Mu-kun~”_

“Kufufufufu~” Rokudo Mukuro chuckled as he spun his trident in his hands, relishing the fear flashing in the trembling form of that man’s eyes with glee “I must say, What a splendid gift Signore has left for me~”)

* * *

Mukuro walked out of the facility with a dark smile on his face and a skip in his steps; never minding the blood dripping from the trident’s pointy ends, or the slight splashes of red staining his new transformed dress. As soon as he walked out, he raised his brows and stared curiously at the eight other ~~test subjects~~ children surrounding the mysterious man, (so that’s why he only found the corpses of researchers and guards, and not any corpses of children on his way out) who was muttering something along the lines of, “......I did not think this through.”

There was something in his palm that emitted a white glow, but he couldn’t make out what it actually was. 

The man’s expression turned unpleasant as he shook the thing in his hand and said, “You are such an annoyance. No one asked for your opinion.” 

His eyes turned dazed for a moment, before the man fisted the thing in his hand and hid it in the inner pocket of his vest with a scowl on his face. “Tch, morons.” he grumbled, and then once again eyed the eight children and groaned, “I should’ve waited a few years…”

“Oya, oya, regretting your heroic decision already, Signore?” Mukuro asked with a small smirk on his face, startling the kids who turned towards him, and flinched when they saw the splashes on blood on his weapon and dress as well as the mocking smile on his face.

The man didn’t seem to have been surprised by his statement -as if he had already known about his presence the moment he had stepped outside. He just turned towards him and clicked his tongue “And here I thought you would be different from other brats. Honestly, you children get your clothes dirty so easily.”

Mukuro bristled at the man’s words. He was not a child! “It’s not a big deal!” He hissed in annoyance, and patted the dress. His palm glowed with indigo fire that spread over the dress, and soon the red splashes disappeared. He turned to the older man with a smug look on his face, who stared at him contemplatively,

“Well, at least you have _some_ talent.” He spoke nonchalantly, and then turned towards the other kids. “Do you have anywhere to go?” the children flinched and shook their heads in unison. The man sighed. “Figures.” He then cleared his throat and continued on, “Alright then, come with me. I’ll know someone who can get you better foster homes where you'd be cared for."

The children murmured between them, and from what Mukuro could make out they were inclined to accept his offer. Now, that won’t do. Even if the man had saved them, it didn’t mean they should just blindly follow him. What if he was doing all this just to lure them to a bigger trap?

“Really, how can we trust someone who won’t even show us their real face?” Mukuro said in a mocking tone, earning him confused glances from his fellow test subjects.

The man stared into his heterochromatic eyes as if searching for something, and seemed to have found whatever he was looking for since he chuckled, “Nufufufufu~ not bad, brat. You do have sharp eyes.”

As soon as he finished speaking, his face melted into blue goo that dripped down the ground, making the children scream in terror. A fog escaped from his sleeves, and surrounded him. While the other children clung to each other and shivered in fear, Mukuro just stared boredly at the little trick the man had pulled. 

He watched as the smoke dissipated, making a lean figure visible to them. The man with light indigo hair dusted off a bit of dirt from his overcoat and bowed down to the audience before him with a smirk, “How do you do, little Ladies and Gents? My name is Daemon Spade. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

Mukuro rolled his eyes and was about to retort, but was cut off by an loud exclaim by an excited blonde boy-

“It’s a melon, byon!”

“Pfft-” Mukuro couldn’t help but give in to the laughter bubbling from his throat at the blonde kid’s words. The sight of the man - _Daemon, he said his name was, right?_ \- glaring at the blonde boy with a vein throbbing over his forehead only made him laugh even harder.

“Ken,” A dark haired boy next to the blondie pulled up his spectacles and sighed. “Have some tact, please.”

“What, Kaki-pi?! I’m just telling the truth! It’s not my fault his hair looks like a melon!” the blonde boy -Ken?- insisted.

“Oi, brat, “ Daemon hissed. “My hair is _not_ like a melon.”

“It’s the truth!”

“It’s not!”

Mukuro tumbled on the ground as he clutched his stomach. He laughed so much that his tummy ached and even tears leaked from his eyes, dirtying his dress in the process. Not that he cared for that transformed dress even a bit. 

  
The comedy routine Daemon and Ken were unknowingly performing was _pure gold._

**Author's Note:**

> Meanwhile with the First Gen-
> 
> “I never thought I’d ever see the day when I see a child one-upping Daemon!” Lampo wheezed with laughter as he leaned on Ugetsu for support so as not to tumble on the ground in his laughter fit.
> 
> “I know right!” Giotto chortled.
> 
> Knuckle snickered. “Children are gifts from the God. Of course they’d be truthful to the ultimate!”
> 
> “Hn.” Alaude smirked.
> 
> G peered curiously at his blonde friend who was too busy fiddling with a camera. “What are you doing Elena?”
> 
> Elena’s eyes sparkled as she chirped, “Getting blackmail pictures, of course!”
> 
> The others stopped paused in their laughter as soon as they heard her statement, and a few of them (namely Lampo, Asari and Giotto) let out another roar of laughter. 
> 
> G himself chuckled and said jokingly, “Get me a copy too, alright?”
> 
> “Of course! Just be ready to pay for it with money~” Elena spoke in a sing-song voice.
> 
> G sweat dropped. “I forgot how much money obsessed you actually are. Besides, we’re ghosts now, how the heck will we get you money?”
> 
> Knuckle mused, “Joss paper money, maybe?” *
> 
> “Nope,” Elena spoke with a sharp glint in her eyes, “Just sign me an IOU then~”
> 
> The laughing trio immediately quieted down, and all the six of them shared a look and shook their heads in unison.
> 
> “Never mind.” G spoke.
> 
> “Yeah, We don’t want to be bankrupted.” Giotto sweat dropped.
> 
> Elena pouted disappointingly, “Aww~”


End file.
